


Let me be your tightrope and your net

by Sadisticsparkle (sadisticsparkle)



Series: Steve/Tony Ficlets [5]
Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Breathplay, M/M, POV Steve Rogers, kink gone wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadisticsparkle/pseuds/Sadisticsparkle
Summary: His hand curls around Tony’s bicep. He tugs him closer and it’s like they’re crashing into each other, mixing like paint on canvas. There’s a kiss and Steve doesn’t know where his skin ends and Tony’s begins.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Steve/Tony Ficlets [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764772
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Let me be your tightrope and your net

His hand curls around Tony’s bicep. He tugs him closer and it’s like they’re crashing into each other, mixing like paint on canvas. There’s a kiss and Steve doesn’t know where his skin ends and Tony’s begins. Tony’s skin — covered in sweat and tears and cum. Maybe even blood. Steve smiles. He likes taking Tony to that point where he lets go of his pride and his dignity and lets Steve take him apart. Tony cries and begs. He’s so good at begging. So pretty when he does it. So desperate for Steve’s cock. They’re still kissing and the kiss is languid and slow. Like Tony deserves. Like Steve wants it to be. 

Tony’s cock is grinding against his thigh, hard again. When did he even come? He can’t remember. It’s all a blur of kisses, bites, and Tony saying no but not meaning it. He turns them around. Tony is splayed on the bed now. He smiles, a pretty, tired smile. Steve kisses him again. He can’t stand those smiles. They stir something inside him. A yearning. A fear. Maybe even worse.

Tony’s hand slide up Steve’s arms, scratching and pinching. Then his wet, hot fingers tighten around Steve’s throat and Steve’s eyes close. There’s a small moan, almost imperceivable, and his back arcs. He can’t breathe, Tony’s making sure of it, and he gasps, but doesn’t move. He grabs the sheet and keeps still. He’s lighter, lighter and he’s farther away by the second. Steve’s dick is hard and he grabs Tony’s waist closer, rubs it against Tony’s thighs, leaking cum already (even if his cum is already leaking out of Tony and Steve can still smell it all over Tony, inside Tony). Steve wants this again and again like he wants the rope burns in his wrists and the cuts in Tony’s back, still bleeding. Tony smiles, another one of those smiles that hurt Steve more than Tony’s whippings, and presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead.

‘It’s okay, I’m here, I’ll take care of you,’ he whispers and that undoes something inside Steve.

He lets air in, then. He lets go of Steve’s throat and the air rushes in, fills his lungs, makes him come and he doesn’t know what’s the wave of the orgasm and what’s the oxygen filling his lungs.

‘Good job, Shellhead,’ Steve says. He puts his arms around Tony’s waist and lets time spill forth, lets go of whatever he was thinking about. All he does is watch Tony watch him, match his breathing to him as if that’ll bring them close enough they’ll understand each other.

Tony traces Steve’s jaw with kisses and then he talks in Steve’s ear, small, courageous, intimate. ‘Can I try it?’

Steve’s eyes widen, but he nods. ‘Sure. You’ll love it.’

This is new. Unexplored territory. Tony takes deep breaths, and he sinks into the mattress. He closes his eyes when Steve puts his forearm on his throat but doesn’t press down. It’s a caress, a threat, and a way out for Tony. Tony freezes, for a second or two or ten, but Steve can see him relax again, can feel his muscles letting go of the tension. Then Tony closes his eyes and nods. The pressure is not much at first, but Steve leans his weight on his forearm, slowly, steadily. Tony’s breathing gets shallower. It’s reassuring, taking care of Tony like this. Being gifted Tony’s trust like this.

And then Tony’s hands are flat against Steve’s chest and he’s pushing Steve’s away and Steve’s so startled he falls off the bed. He jumps back up and Tony’s curled on the bed, his breathing fast, shallow, his eyes unfocused. Steve crawls towards him, giving him plenty of time to bolt, to tell Steve to keep away. He doesn’t so Steve puts his arms around him, engulfs him in his warmth. He can feel Tony’s pulse, still racing.

‘It’s okay. I’m here. You’re here. I’ll take care of you,’ he repeats into Tony’s hair and against all hope, he hopes it’s enough.


End file.
